


Spark Plug

by Arsenic



Series: Discipline and Punish [48]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-29
Updated: 2007-11-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 23:10:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19029862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arsenic/pseuds/Arsenic
Summary: Tommy's totally a winner.





	Spark Plug

There were two things, in Gerard's experience, that nobody ever expected:

1\. The Spanish Inquisition

2\. Jon Walker hollering out a war cry, running at top speed into the center's lounge, and throwing himself at Tommy for all he was worth.

There was an optional third:

3\. Tommy catching Jon, putting him down, asking, "Dude, the fuck?" (Gerard really would have expected instinctive violence, if he was being honest about the situation. That was probably how he would have reacted, and Tommy could be hotter under the collar than Gerard most days.)

Jon just _bounced_ back onto Tommy, clearly unaware of the danger. He said, "The center has _two_ nationally recognized artists."

Tommy frowned. Then said, "Oh! Oh, wait, you got your pictures published somewhere?"

"Not _mine_." Jon huffed like that had been an unreasonable assumption. It hadn't been, so far as Gerard could tell.

Tommy narrowed his eyes. "Jon?"

"Okay, don't be mad, but I entered you into a contest Aperture was running--"

"You what?" Tommy didn't even sound mad, just disbelieving and kind of wobbly. Gerard resisted the urge to go stand behind him in case he fell down. Tommy could stand on his own just fine. He had for more years than anyone Gerard knew.

"Look," Jon said, " _look_ ," and opened the pages of a glossy magazine that Gerard hadn't even noticed him holding. There, on the page that Jon folded back, was a picture of Greta's soup kitchen in the calm right before the storm. Gerard wasn't sure how, but Tommy had managed to capture the silence of that moment right before people began to show up, to find their way in the doors and line up to be served. He managed to capture the way the kitchen was a place away from the cold, a place of help and hope. It was a gorgeous picture, black and white, simple, layered beyond most of the art Gerard had ever seen in his life. And it was so, so Tommy. Just from looking at it, Gerard could see why Tommy had taken the shot, how the shot had helped Tommy see the things he wanted to see in life. Gerard knew all about how things could be better, easier, when they were on paper, appearing at his command. It had never occurred to him that development chemicals might do the same thing for Tommy.

Tommy said, "That's-- That's my picture."

"I know. I entered it into their amateur photographers contest."

"You... Why?" Tommy asked, still just staring at the photo that he knew and yet had never seen in that context before.

"Because I thought you had a chance of being a winner. And I was right."

"I won." The word sounded weird on Tommy's tongue, like he had just learned it.

"Yeah, you and nine other artists had their work featured in this issue. It's not, you know, a big prize, but it's pretty cool. Some pretty awesome photographers have their stuff in here."

Spencer rested his chin on Jon's shoulder and said, "Lemme see."

Ryan and Mikey came around to the other side of the table. Mikey said, "How'd you do that?"

Tommy crinkled his forehead. "Do what? Take the picture?"

"Find that moment, exactly. You and Gee, you can do that. I don't get it."

Tommy's eyes flew to Gerard. Gerard could tell there was a fair amount of surprise at the comparison. He said, "Um?"

Gerard shrugged. "Sometimes the moment's just there to take."

Tommy nodded. Mikey sighed. "Fine, whatever, _don't_ tell your artist-person secrets."

Tommy said, "Jon."

Jon looked at him. "Are you pissed?"

"You thought I could win?"

Jon said, "It didn't really cross my mind that you _couldn't_."

Tommy blinked at that. He looked down at the photo, fingers hovering reverently above the picture. "I'm a winner."

"Totally," Jon agreed.

Tommy asked, "Can I borrow this? To show Bob?"

"When I got my copy this month I went out and bought you the four on the shelf at Borders. So you could send one to Frank, and in case you wanted Linda to have one, or whatever."

"What do I owe you?"

"An attempt at some self-esteem," Jon said, and went back to tackle-hugging Tommy. Gerard grinned at Mikey over the commotion.

 

*

"I don't really ask you for much, right?" Pete said.

Gerard started to deny this premise but then he realized that most of the things Pete asked for were kind of small, like accompanying him when he went out with Patrick and Chris--usually when Brian or Mikey couldn't--so he wouldn't feel like a third wheel, or running to get him a sports drink when they were at the center and Pete was deeply involved in getting his ass kicked at basketball by the neighborhood kids. This was actually the first time Pete had been back in town in a while, and it was only because they were in a week lull between tours, so there hadn't been a _chance_ for Pete to ask for much, but, "Okay, sure."

"There's this guy in this other band on our label. We've toured together sometimes and he's pretty awesome and I have a grand-life plan to make him fall in love with me the way Chris loves Patrick."

Gerard wasn't sure he liked where this was going. "Okay."

"But for the moment, I would totally settle for him not thinking I'm some kind of Ritalin-needing defective mental case."

"Every relationship has to start somewhere." Gerard _really_ didn't have a leg to stand on so far as that went.

"Right! Okay, so, here's the thing. Matty B, the guy, and um, actually, his name's just Matt, but I call him that because it totally differentiates me and also, if not I might get him confused with Matt C, because you guys bring him up a lot and just call him Matt and I have to know these things, so Matty B it is, anyway, he's into pictures, taking them. And I guess he reads this magazine and he was showing me it, because, like, I can be interested in his stuff, right? So he was totally in love with this one picture, and I was like, 'hey, I've been to that place!' because it was the kitchen, Greta's kitchen, you know. And then I looked and the name on the picture was Tommy's so I got all excited, all, 'Holy shit, I know that kid!' and Matty was all, 'Really?' because I guess they're looking for someone to do some photography work for their liner notes, someone who won't charge them an outrageous amount and I said I could probably hook him up and please please _please_ Gee, you gotta make it happen, _please_. The happiness of the _rest of my life_ rests in your hands."

"Drama queen," Gerard said. It wasn't even an accusation. Pete was too obvious to bother with that sort of thing. He thought this might be a good moment to bring up the fact that, "You know, Pete, that you and your band are a lot of the reason I have most of what I have right now, right?"

Pete took a step back. He shook his head. "Gee, um, no. Don't-- No, okay? No doing this because you think you owe me. Do it because I'm a loser who has a hard time getting a boyfriend with his own charms, or because it could be an awesome opportunity for Tommy, or whatever, but our cover art? It's like everything we ever dreamed of from a CD. We all want to keep you in a cryogenic chamber just to make sure you can work on our next one. You don't owe us shit."

"Do you really have a hard time getting a boyfriend? Really?"

"Well, only the ones I actually _want_ , " Pete told him honestly. "You should check out one of Matty B's shows. He sings to his band. Turns his fucking back on the crowd and sings to his band or even the wall because he just wants to forget they're there. Wants it to be just the art and him. And like, Patrick's shy, right? But it's still, the audience is _part_ of it, but Matty just...for him it's almost as if the music should be all consuming, you know?"

"They play in town sometimes?"

"Fair amount. And I'm sure you could get comp tickets through the label, or even if you just asked. Especially if he knows you helped hook him up with Tommy. Just, uh, the name Matty? I think he really only puts up with that because he secretly desperately loves me."

"Noted."

"His bandmates are kind of merciless about it."

"Have you considered finding another nickname?"

"No, not really. It fits, trust me."

Gerard thought about telling Pete that his seduction technique could use some work, but Gerard had evidently gotten his boyfriend by looking helpless and in need of some fine tuning. "I thought you were going to bring him Tommy."

"Oh, well, I was going to give you credit. I try not to lie to people that I want to do more to me than suck my dick."

"Nice honor system you have there," Gerard said.

Pete shrugged. "I work with what I've got."

"Yeah. I actually meant it."

 

*

Tommy choked on the coffee he was drinking. Gerard said, "Oh, hey, you okay?"

Tommy waved him off, and turned away to die quietly--or noisily, really--as Gerard watched. Gerard stepped into Tommy's space anyway and waited until Tommy leaned back just a breath to put his hand on Tommy's back and rub. Tommy relaxed slowly into the touch. "Sorry," Gerard said. "I didn't realize it was going to shock you like that."

"I just-- A guy in an actual band with actual music wants to talk to me about taking pictures for an actual album?"

"Yes. Actually." Gerard couldn't help himself sometimes.

Tommy smacked him in the arm and said, "Why the fuck is Frank still in prison?" before starting to pace a whole bunch.

"Tommy?" Gerard asked.

"I want to tell him. I want to-- I don't want to write a stupid letter, or tell his mom to tell him, _I_ want to fucking tell him that I did something right and maybe it mattered. I-- He might actually give a fuck, he--"

"Hey," Gerard said softly. "Hey. We give a fuck."

"No, I--" Tommy bit his lip. "Sorry. I wasn't talking about you guys. I wasn't."

"Okay," Gerard said, because he wasn't really sure what else there was to say to that. It was pretty obvious that the people in Tommy's life so far had generally left him high and dry, possibly after verbally abusing him for a while.

"It's just-- He helped me, you know? Even though I was always acting-- And I hated--" Tommy broke off, burying his hands in his face. " _Fuck._ "

"I know," Gerard said. "Mikey-- It wasn't the same, but I know."

"He gave me Mikey. Even though he couldn't have him. I didn't even get it at the time and he just sent me to you guys and it worked and now I can't even fucking tell him."

"You will, though. You will."

"It won't be enough." Tommy looked at the floor.

"Why don't you meet with the band, take the pictures first? Then we'll worry about what the fuck 'enough' means, okay?"

Tommy was still for a moment, then he nodded. He moved slightly toward Gerard before stopping. Gerard had never been afraid of hugs, not even when it would have been best for him to be, but he knew all the signs, had begun to read them in Mikey mere weeks into their stint. He walked forward and grabbed Tommy so hard he squeaked. Then Tommy clung back. Gerard wasn't going to tell anyone about either reaction.

 

*

Matty, as it turned out, was easily twice Pete's size in his legs alone, blond and just not even a little bit what Gerard had envisioned being Pete's type. I mean, sure, all he had to go on was Brian, who--much like Pete--was tiny and tattooed, but that had sort of given Gerard the idea that Pete was a little into the ones who looked like himself. Evidently not.

Tommy had quietly insisted that Gerard be there for the first meeting, since he was going to meet the whole band in one go. The rest of the band was made up of a set of twins and a set of brothers, which Gerard could seriously get behind. They all shook hands in a flurry of introductions that Gerard knew he was mostly going to forget. He wished Mikey was here. Mikey could remember everyone by their instruments. It was a weird but endlessly useful talent.

The one Gerard thought might be Aaron--Bryce?--said, "Your art is really something. We wanted to talk to you about maybe doing the tour promo posters, but first we need an album."

"So they tell us," Matty said, sounding rather put upon.

Tommy said, "So, you want pictures of...you guys?"

"No, no, this is where it gets _awesome_ ," Pete said.

Matty looked over at Pete like he wasn't entirely sure of what to do with him, then he laughed. "Wanna tell for me?"

"Yes," Pete admitted. One of the guys, maybe Scott, snickered. Pete was clearly above being bothered. Matty motioned with his hand for Pete to go right on ahead. Pete told Tommy, "The album's called Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers. They want you to take _iconic_ pictures."

"Um, really just representational pictures would do it for us," Matty said.

"He's better than that," Gerard said softly, more to Tommy than to them.

"Yeah," Matty said, "you're probably right."

Tommy said, "So, um. What kind of deadline were you thinking?"

 

*

_Frank,_

_I should have forgiven you before you saved my life. That was just stubborn and punitive of me. Because I knew, I did. I knew. I was just mad for all the times I wasn't man enough to do the equivalent. He had me. He should have come to you whole._

_Gerard_


End file.
